Day 5 - Kyle AND Recap

Bio: Kyle has been a friend from church for about four years now. He is an interesting guy. He is smart and incredibly logical, very science-math-left brain oriented. And then, in rare moments, he lets you peek inside and see he is not nearly as emotionless as he sometimes comes across. (Robot Kyle, as I have sometimes joked.) Like Marisa (tomorrow’s challenge), he has a great sardonic wit. He’s a chemist, so he always has small holes in his worn khaki’s from chemicals at the office. He is mostly fun to talk to, but you have to be careful what questions you ask him. Inquire about his home mortgage, for example, and he will very logically tell you EVERYTHING that he considered before moving forward, and the financial ramifications, and blah blah blah. So I have learned to be direct with him, and avoid polite questions. He sort of conditions you to be blunt / genuine.

Fifth Day Challenge: “Ben, thanks for making me a part of the celebration. I considered a variety of ways that I could torture you with this. Unfortunately, limburger cheese is much more difficult to find in OKC than I thought it would be. When that option was exhausted, I turned to devising ways to torture you mentally and socially. That being said, here is your challenge for the day: You must only walk backwards and must strictly speak in the third person only, referring to yourself as ‘B-Daddy.’ Thanks again for involving me in this part of your life.”

Initial Reaction: Huh. When he used the word torture twice in the opening, I got pretty worried. While bizarre, walking backwards isn’t as bad as I was expecting. I’ll just stay in my chair at work all day and avoid talking to people. Though I was planning to go the gym tonight…I’ll have to figure something out.

Recap:

I drove to work considering how I’d need to adjust my day to avoid being seen walking backwards. Of course, today is the day when our Commissioners (board of directors) meet, and a lot more people are in the building. I don’t want anyone to see me acting weirdly, so I need to come up with a plan to avoid being seen. As for “B Daddy” I can just start sentences without references to myself. For example, if I was talking about the fourth of July, I’d say, “Went to a barbeque. Set off a firework. Had a good time.” And voila! No need to reference “B Daddy”. (Which I thought was “B Diddy” due to Kyle’s penmanship, so I went half the day using that as my reference.)

Getting In: I arrived at work after most others had gone inside. I looked around the parking lot, and the coast was clear. I started walking backwards. Then a co-worker (my least favorite of everyone I work with, naturally), pulled in. I halted stiffly and dropped to a knee, pretending to tie a show. He took a while, and I didn’t want to appear like I truly can’t tie my shoe, so I pulled out my cell phone and pretended to text. Once he was inside the building, I resumed my backwards walk, tripping and almost falling in my heavy black dress shoes. I reached the door, got inside, and then immediately saw that same guy in the hallway. In that blinding second of fear that he’d catch me, I figured out a loophole. I must “walk backwards,” but Kyle said nothing about running. So I ran to my office facing forward, deliberately avoiding eye contact with that guy because it is a known fact he can sniff out fear and embarrassment.

Hallways: I stayed anchored to my chair for the first hour and a half. When I knew the commissioners were in the middle of the meeting, I peered out my door at the hallway. It was clear. So I backwards trotted to the stairwell, and went up to get my mail. I have to say, walking backwards UP stairs is actually easier than I thought. It’s coming DOWN that gets tricky. During this trip and a subsequent trip to the bathroom, I’d walk backwards until I came to an open doorway. Then I’d twirl around in a sort of circle so that as I passed my co-worker’s line of sight, it would look like I was going forward. (Or just randomly doing circles in the hallway.) Once when I had to go to the bathroom, I luckily saw a co-worker from my Department passing my door. I started talking to her, then walked backwards away from her to the bathroom while still talking. I think she thought I was really into whatever we were talking about. I wasn’t.

Phone calls / conversations: For the first hour, I only got two phone calls, both from co-workers upstairs, so when I did the “B Diddy” thing, they chuckled and didn’t even acknowledge the strangeness. So that worked. But later, in a conversation with my immediate boss, I got really into what I was talking about and forgot to replace. It’s funny, I never realized how MUCH I use the word “I” in a conversation until I was working hard not to use it.

Lunch: Grandy’s Drive-through. They didn’t even pause when I said, “B Daddy wants a pot roast meal.” That part went great. But it was on the way back inside that I folded. I parked around the side of the building and (backwards) skirted the building because I knew the lunch crowd could see out the window facing the parking lot. I came around so they couldn’t see me until I was only 12 feet away from the entrance. And then Mr. Vaguely Serious stepped out the door and saw me. He’s a nice man: quiet, polite, drab. And I just couldn’t figure out how to NOT look like a super weirdo. I didn’t pretend to text, or tie my shoe, or anything. I think I just looked sheepish, turned around, and walked inside. So there you have it, Kyle. Score 1 for embarrassing me into breaking.

Leaving the building / working out: I usually stay later than most of my co-workers, so I was fortunate to have the parking lot fairly empty when I left. I walked backwards as quickly as I could to my car. Which is not very fast, because the balance is all off. So then I drove to my gym, which is in Mercy Hospital. I had debated whether to attempt it or not, since there are much smaller quarters there and people would most certainly notice my odd behavior. But I went for it anyway.

I parked across the street from the entrance because if you park next to the entrance, the sprinklers leave your windshield totally plastered in dried waterdrops. It was a moment of truth, because there are a fair number of cars driving on that road on the Mercy campus. But I manned up and walked all the way to the front of the building backwards.

And then saw the valet parking attendant staring at me, felt my face flame with embarrassment, and broke for the second time that day. I turned forwards and walked inside, humiliated. I should have just owned it and kept going. Ah well....

I rode the elevator down (by myself) and came up with a game plan for exiting the elevator. You see, the gym has large glass windows so people working out can see you as soon as you get out of the elevator. So out came the phone again. I exited the elevator, then turned around backwards, pantomiming that I was trying to find signal for my phone. I took a few steps backwards and stopped. I pretended to text. I snuck a glance at the folks on the treadmill. Two were looking at me, the sweet old lady who always says "hi," and a rather large man "with a round belly that shook when he laughed like a bowl full of jelly." I swallow, feeling my cheeks flush again. But I have to get inside. I can't just stand around in the hallway. So I take a few more steps backwards and fiddle with the phone. Then I twirl around and open the door. I'm in.

The sweet old lady (SOL) says "hi," warmly. But Santa is giving me the evil eye. He smells something fishy. I take two quick steps to the couches that are slightly behind the line of treadmills and sit down. This a.) allows me to not break the challenge and b.) forces him to return facing forwards instead of watching me.

With all the treadmillers facing forwards (and away from me), I creep along backwards, sticking next to the wall. I get to the sign in sheet. I sign in (forgetting to sign B Daddy, tragically.) And then I escape down the hall to the locker room. I change in, recharge my mojo, and go back out, backwards. I left my phone in my locker, so I grab a magazine and pretend to be absorbed in it as I slide along the back wall. Santa eyes me again, so I stop and flip through the magazine, find an article I like, and read it. After two minutes, he looks away, distracted. I gloat at outlasting him and consider a career change to special ops. I walk backwards to the bicycle machine and sit down.

The SOL is on the treadmill beside me. I smile. She smiles back. "Were you using a GPS?" she asks. My special ops career evaporates. I have fooled no one, not even the SOL. "Um, no. Just texting," I reply. "Oh," she replies. Then she tells me a story about her niece in Boston who is big into "the GPS." I figure out she is talking about geocaching, even though it is clear she doesn't quite understand the specifics. But her niece loves it. She thought I might have been programming in the coordinates in my phone. That actually would have been a good cover story.....

I warm up for 6 minutes on the bike, during which time Santa finishes and leaves. Whew. I complete the warmup and slink back along the wall to the water cooler, get some water, and stare down the task in front of me. The Mercy gym is very small and compact. This Tuesday, there are about 5 people working out on the machines, which is kind of a lot. I am going to have to do my circuit, going from machine to machine, backwards because there is no room to run. And the other people there are definately going to see.

I just can't take the social awkwardness, or rather, potential social awkwardness. I get my stuff out of the locker and flee (backwards) to my car. I go jogging (forwards!) in a nearby neighborhood.

Later on that night I played volleyball with some friends, and I walked backwards to and from the court, but didn't try to keep up with walking backwards on the court.

Looking back, there were several moments I didn't follow through, and folded from social pressure. Clearly, I care very much what other people think of me, even strangers. So maybe I should order some limburger cheese online to make up for it. Maybe...

BD